The Babies of Baker Street
by Maeve09
Summary: In the middle of the War at Baker Street, two mysterious packages are dropped off for a Mr. S. Holmes and Mr. J. Watson, two men who are on opposing sides. And they both contain the key to the end of the War... No, this isn't as serious as it sounds. To be perfectly honest, it's full of babylock, fluff and nonsense. But the top part is true. Read to find out more!
1. A Temporary Truce

**~AN: I ****do not**** own the characters to Sherlock; all credit goes to their respective owners and whatnot.~**

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock shouted from his position on the couch. He had been lounging about all day in his pyjamas, his robe hanging from one shoulder and wild black curls falling in his face. _I might need a haircut soon._ He thought, brushing the hair out of his eyes with one slender finger just to have it fall back. _Haircuts are boring. Necessary, but boring. Ugh, I'm starting to think like John._

He observed, but found that he wasn't repulsed by the idea. John was a good man, and his best friend. _Now, if it was anyone else, maybe even Anderson..._ Sherlock shuddered at the thought. _Nope, not going there._ The doorbell rang, followed by a loud knock on the door, and Sherlock remembered why he had shouted for his landlady in the first place.

"Shut up!" he yelled at the stair case. Someone had been at the door for barely a minute and already Sherlock was annoyed at their presence. Especially since they demanded to be noted by everyone within a hundred yards of 221B. Sherlock had been deep in one of his moods, complaining bitterly of boredom when the door began to make that infuriating racket and disturb his thought process.

It certainly wasn't a client. And even if it was, he refused to see them. He would have to actually _get up and get dressed_, good Lord. And then he'd be promised an interesting case that's "worth you while," which would turn out to be a poorly planned scheme, scandal, and the like which he would unravel in the first few moments of their meeting.

Then he would verbally tear them apart with his deductions, and while that was personally satisfying for him since they wasted his time, that would be a bit Not Good since John and his strong morals wouldn't approve.

He would then be left bored again, in a much more sour mood, and _dressed in his suit_. While it was possible to sulk in a suit (John had discovered this at a recent Christmas Dinner with the Holmes Family), it wasn't half as satisfying.

"Mrs. Hudson! Make them go away!" he shouted. Whoever was at the door was knocking more insistently. The land lady had finally decided to take notice of the ruckus taking place beneath her roof, and was currently banging her broom into the ceiling in an effort to get Sherlock to get up and do something about the door for once.

There had been an on-going battle between them for a month, Mrs. Hudson refusing to do anything for Sherlock (at John's insistence) in order to get him out of his moods, and Sherlock refusing to comply despite John's protests. The doorbell rang again, louder this time.

Sherlock decided he would have to test whether pressing harder on the button did in fact result in a louder ring.

Maybe at night while John was supposed to be asleep...He would tell Mrs. Hudson to expect a disturbance in the night, and they could temporarily form an alliance against the man who had ignited their feud in the first place. John really should have learned by now that good intentions with Sherlock's moods lead to retaliation from the sociopath himself.

He heard the door to Mrs. Hudson's room open beneath him and grinned in triumph. _This battle has been won, but the war is far from over._ He reminded himself. _Well you asked for it._ He mentally informed the person at the door as he got up from the couch and made his way to his bedroom.

He found he was able to give out scathing remarks better when he was dressed impeccably in his suit instead of his bathrobe.

John's comments about it most likely having to do with self confidence, arrogance, and Sherlock's ability to seem to be above everyone else in the room floated around in Sherlock's mind, and he dismissed them. Dressed in a fresh suit, he ruffled the back of his hair with a flip of his hands, watching it settle into place. _That'll do._ He decided, examining his reflection in the mirror. _May God have mercy on the man who interferes with my moods, for I won't._

~oOo~

Sherlock emerged from his room as Mrs. Hudson entered the shared flat. She held two bundles, one in each arm and approached him as he tried to make out what the contents might be.

"Who was it?" Sherlock asked, straightening the front of his suit.

Mrs. Hudson just smiled knowingly. "Why Sherlock, you never told me." she said. _It appears we have reached a temporary truce._ Sherlock noted.

"Never told you what?" he asked, approaching the old woman to inspect one of the bundles. He already had a sneaking suspicion of what was in them, which was confirmed when the bundle he touched began to cry.

_Damn, it's alive._

**~Author's Note~**

**OMG, this was so much fun to make. I was trying to think of how Sherlock would mentally react to a baby. Yes, I know that there are probably hundreds of babylock parentlock fanfics out there, but I hope you enjoy this one!**

**Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment and review!**

**P.S. Just realized that when I first uploaded this, it was just a huge block of text and it hurt to look at it, so I fixed it up real quick. Sorry bout that!**

**~Maeve09**


	2. Infants Number One and Two

**~AN: I ****do not**** own the characters to Sherlock; all credit goes to their respective owners and whatnot.~**

"Why you didn't think of telling me that you and John were adopting is beyond me, Sherlock. Tell me, did you adopt separately, or as a couple?" Mrs. Hudson inquired, gently bouncing the crying bundle. Sherlock took said bundle from her and pulled the covering back to reveal an infant's face, surrounded by dark black hair. The baby stopped crying and studied him intently, a frown on its chubby face.

"Sherlock, stop glaring at the child! You'll make it cry again!" Mrs. Hudson scolded him, and Sherlock realized that he had been mimicking the baby. Or was it mimicking him? "It was glaring at me first." he protested, which only made the infant glare harder. _Is such a thing even possible?_ He thought. As if it heard his thoughts, the baby's brow furrowed even more. _Apparently yes_.

"No, we didn't adopt at all. What makes you think they're for us?" Sherlock asked, holding the baby at arm's length and examining it. He pointedly avoided looking at the baby's face, since it seemed to be examining him back. It was unnerving, to say the least.

_Young male child, approximately ten months old. Eyes appear to be older. Barely healthy; hasn't been fed recently, and is in damn good need of changing._ Sherlock observed, his face wrinkling in disgust at the baby's smell. Said infant only looked at him smugly.

The baby adjusted his position in Sherlock's arms, and he heard the rustle of paper. Turning the baby around, he saw a piece of paper pinned to the infant's clothing with his name written on it neatly.

_To: Mr. S. Holmes_

The paper was torn, the edges ragged. _Someone was determined to get rid of you in a hurry._ Sherlock thought. There was something about the paper, something so obviously off, but before he had a chance to examine it, the infant in his arms became a screaming kicking heap.

"Calm down!" he ordered, holding the angry infant as far from him as possible to avoid injury to his face. The baby just screamed harder, his arms flailing. "Mrs. Hudson! Do something!" Sherlock demanded.

"What would you have me do, dear?" The land lady asked mildly. She laughed at something the bundle in her arms was doing, swaying side to side.

"Make it shut up!" Sherlock answered. "What do you want?" he asked the child. _Needs a changing, but no, that's not it. No bodily injuries..._ he said, and was surprised when the child quieted beneath his intense gaze.

It stared back at him, then jerked his arm towards something behind Sherlock, willing the consulting detective to understand. _Ah, he's pointing. Clever baby._ Sherlock thought with admiration. Maybe watching the baby wouldn't be as tedious as he originally assumed.

Sherlock turned around, only seeing Mrs. Hudson cooing softly to the bundle in her arms, long wrinkled fingers stroking a light-brown haired baby's cheek. Sherlock moved close enough to the pair so that the infant in his arms could see the one he came with.

The black-haired baby reached out a hand to his companion, touching the blonde-brown hair with something akin to reverence. The baby in Mrs. Hudson's arms looked up with a sleepy expression and patted the black-haired baby's hand.

Mrs. Hudson moved a hand to brush her bundle's cheek again, but Sherlock's infant had other ideas and smacked her hand away with a scowl.

_Territorial. Interesting. Obviously a close bond between the infants, but not from blood. _Sherlock observed, an amused expression on his face as he watched the land lady retaliate by pinching the infant in his arm's cheek affectionately. Said infant huffed in frustration and tried to slap her hands away.

"Aww, isn't he a darling little thing? Firey spirited, I'd say. Reminds me of you, Sherlock." she commented with a chuckle. The infant in her arms moved, and

Sherlock heard a rustle identical to the one that came from his baby. _Oh God, I'm already referring to it as my baby._ He thought, mildly annoyed at the thought. As far as he knew, it didn't have a name, and since there were two of them, he couldn't just call it the baby. _Maybe Infants Number One and Two would be acceptable considering the circumstances._

Having thus made up his mind, Sherlock reached behind Infant Number Two, who was in Mrs. Hudson's arms, and plucked the sheet of paper from the infant's wrappings. It was made of the same material, ripped along the side with the same handwriting:

_& Mr. J. Watson_

_Interesting. John had one too. No wonder Mrs. Hudson assumed we were adopting together._

"Oh." he whispered, looking down at Infant Number One. "John will have a fit when he sees this." he muttered. Mrs. Hudson looked at him curiously. "Then you didn't adopt them?" she asked. Sherlock fought the urge to roll his eyes dramatically. Honestly, how long did it take her to come to that conclusion? "No, we didn't." he confirmed.

"Well then what will you do with them?" she asked. Sherlock fixed her with a pointed stare, watching as understanding showed on her face, just to be replaced with firm refusal. "No. Absolutely not, Sherlock." she said. Sherlock stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, staring at her with pleading eyes, which she pointedly ignored. "I'm your land lady, dear, not your babysitter." she informed him.

"You are _Mrs. Hudson_." Sherlock said in protest.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Mrs. Hudson asked, then put a hand up to stop him from speaking. "No, never mind dear, I don't wish to know. Until further notice, these children are under your and John's care, and you _will care for them_." She finished decidedly, moving towards Sherlock's bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked, completely baffled by her behavior. Mrs. Hudson returned with Sherlock's duvet in one arm, Infant Number Two sitting on her hip. Instead of answering, she continued what she was doing. The man was clever, let him figure it out.

She then proceeded to lay the duvet out on the floor of the living room and placed Infant Number Two in the middle, surrounding him with cushions to prevent him from falling over. Carefully she unwrapped the infant from his coverings, revealing a white onesie which covered the child from neck to foot with a soft frilly collar beneath his blankets. He looked around with his sleepy expression, as though the world around him didn't concern him in the slightest.

After making sure the child was settled comfortably, Mrs. Hudson stood and headed towards the staircase. "I don't know what to do with them!" Sherlock protested, realizing she meant to leave them _here_, with _him_ of all people. "You're such a smart boy, Sherlock. You'll figure it out. And the War is back on, Mr. Holmes; truce is over!" she called back with a wave of her fingers as she descended back to her room. _Damn it all._ Sherlock thought miserably. Infant Number One just smiled smugly at his companion, who decided the people around him weren't of interest and his covered foot was just the right size to fit into his mouth.

~oOo~

**~Author's Note~**

**I have no idea how old to make these babies. I haven't dealt with one in years, so my knowledge is rusty! Just know that they aren't speech enabled, but they are cleverer than normal babies.**

**Yeah, this turned out to be a long one. Hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter should be more interesting and funny, with Sherlock explaining the situation to John and their naming the infants. Can you guess who the babies are? :)**

**As for the timeline, I suppose this is post-reichenbach, and everything is back to being "normal" between John and Sherlock.**

**~Maeve09**


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